


The Future

by buttercup23



Category: Dragon Age, Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: F/M, Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-31
Updated: 2015-12-31
Packaged: 2018-05-10 16:23:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,394
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5592982
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/buttercup23/pseuds/buttercup23
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Cullen and Faelore wrestle with their plans for the future. This gift was a prize in my tumblr giveaway.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Future

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Omobolasire1](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Omobolasire1/gifts).



Sunlight streamed onto the war table, illuminating mites of dust in its beam and casting shadows over Orlais and Ferelden from the few markers left standing. The table looked bare, bereft of so many of the moving pieces the advisors and the Inquisitor had strategically placed during their long fight against chaos and Corypheus. Still, it was not yet an empty table, and there was more work to be done—hence the morning meeting.

They were short two advisors: Cassandra had some Seeker business to attend to, and Morrigan had just up and disappeared after Corypheus’ defeat. Cullen, Josephine, Leliana and Faelore still had time to attend, however, in spite of all the preparations going on for that evening’s event.

“We received yet another marriage proposal this week.”

“Maker, do these people never quit? I am still not interested—”

Josephine did not look up from her candle and clipboard. “The proposal was not for you, Commander. It was for the Inquisitor.”

Cullen had been leaning against the table. He straightened, blinking rapidly. “The Inquisitor?”

Faelore stood on the opposite side of the table from him; her alabaster hair practically glowed in the morning sun. She waved a hand dismissively. “Regardless, my answer is the same as Cullen’s. I’m not interested.” She put a hand on Josephine’s arm. “More importantly, did you order those little cakes for the party tonight?”

“Oh, you needn’t worry about refreshments, Inquisitor. Josephine has all of that under her exquisite control. A better topic for conversation would be fashion, don’t you think?”

“You just want to know what I’m wearing.” Crossing her arms over her chest, it was clear Faelore was fighting a smile as she pretended to glare at Leliana. “To see if you approve.”

“Nonsense, I am sure that whatever you have planned will be perfectly lovely—”

“Another?” Three sets of eyes regarded him. Cullen cleared his throat, trying to ignore the way his face warmed. “You said another marriage proposal. Have there… have there been others, then?”

He did not miss the way Josephine’s gaze flicked to the other two women before meeting his own, nor did he fail to notice the way her lips twitched before she smoothed her expression. “Indeed. The Inquisitor has had many such proposals since our victory.”

“Orlais can recognize a rising star when she sees one.” Leliana placed a hand on Faelore’s shoulder. “So, back to the issue of your dress—”

“But she’s a mage.” The silence that greeted that statement induced a mild panic. “I mean… I’m just surprised. Traditionally the nobility has er… well, you know magic hasn’t been seen as a welcome addition to the bloodlines…” He trailed off, sensing that the temperature in the room had dropped substantially. “I’m just surprised they’re so open minded. That’s all I’m saying.”

He hoped the expression he gave Faelore was apologetic enough, but when she met his gaze he saw that he needn’t have worried. “I’m as surprised as you, to tell you the truth,” she said, her voice low and candid.

It eased something that had been tightening in his chest.

“Well, you should not be surprised,” Josephine countered, scratching at her clipboard with her quill. “The Inquisition’s power and influence are at an all time high. People will seek to ally with us through many different avenues. The fact that the Inquisitor is a lovely, unmarried woman has not been overlooked.”

Cullen scoffed, but Leliana spoke up before he could say anything. “Indeed. We’ve amassed an impressive list of connections and allies. There are many who will seek to improve their own position through their association with us. And a marriage would be the closest association of them all.”

“But… that’s not… that is… is that something that you want?”

Once again everyone in the room froze, and Cullen wished he could take the words back. It was a ridiculously personal question to ask in front of anyone, and they’d never even discussed… 

“I mean,” he began again, standing up straight and clasping his hands behind his back. Ignoring the way his heart pounded in his chest, he addressed his question to Josephine, keeping his tone casual. “Is the Inquisition really considering a political marriage to increase our influence? That hardly seems necessary.”

Josephine did not meet his gaze, but rather pursed her lips and looked furtively at Faelore.

Leliana, however, waved a hand, again dismissive. “We’ve no need to seek greater power through such means. The marriage would no doubt benefit the Inquisitor’s spouse—”

“—and their entire House, and perhaps Orlais in general,” Josephine could not seem to help but add.

“Indeed, all of those—far more than it would benefit us. Although…” Leliana cocked her head to the side, a thoughtful frown appearing. “A marriage outside of Orlais or Ferelden may be worth considering, extending the reach of the Inquisition into Nevarra or perhaps Rivian…”

“Don’t overlook Antiva!” Josephine seemed to be warming to the idea, much to Cullen’s horror.

“Such a marriage might lead to suspicions and outrage from our Orlesian and Ferelden allies.”

 _Excellent point._ Cullen’s mouth was dry and he couldn’t seem to get a word in edgewise.

“I’m not so sure our political clout couldn’t handle it. It’s not like she’d be marrying a Tevinter or a Qunari—”

“Can you all stop talking about me as if I’m not here?”

Faelore stood with her arms crossed in front of her, a storm forming in her ice blue eyes.

“I’m so sorry, Inquisitor. I was only speaking hypothetically of course—”

“I didn’t mean—”

“But of course! We meant no harm—”

She held up a hand and the three of them fell silent, cowed into submission by the simple authority and quiet dignity that had earned her the position as their leader in the first place. “I’ve never even considered the possibility until a short while ago, but it’s not something up for debate at the war table.” Her gaze flicked to his and her expression softened. She cleared her throat, turning to Leliana and saying in a deliberate tone, “I’m thinking of wearing something blue tonight. Any objections?”

Understanding the change of topic for the pronouncement that it was, the other two women began to speak enthusiastically of lighter topics, namely party preparations and fashion.

He had little to add on these subjects and was thankful for the excuse to fall silent. He stood there pretending to study the map markers for what he hoped was an appropriate amount of time before excusing himself politely and dashing back to his office.

 _Marriage_ … It was silly that he hadn’t considered it before, he supposed, but he could hardly be blamed for that. His duty had always come first and he’d assumed that his life would never allow for something so stable and normal as a marriage. _Let alone to a mage…_

But Faelore was going to endorse Leliana for Divine and Leliana had radical ideas about changing the Chantry and the way mages were treated. And he was no longer with the Templar Order… and no longer ruled by either its lyrium or its edicts.

In this new world they had forged together, there was no reason at all that he shouldn’t consider…

_“I’ve never even considered the possibility until a short while ago, but it’s not something up for debate at the war table.”_

At least the idea was new to Faelore, too. He’d hate to think he’d been completely oblvious and that she’d been waiting all this time for him to ask her to marry him. For all he knew, she didn’t even want to get married and found the idea detestable.

The thought gave him an odd, sinking feeling and he frowned to himself as he opened his office door and stepped in side. Moving over to his desk he sat down and started shuffling the papers around on top of it. He gave the appearance of being busy but in truth he hardly saw the documents in his hands. His head was too abuzz with questions to do much in the way of work.

As the morning gave way to the afternoon and then the afternoon melted into evening, Cullen’s introspection turned from shock to analysis and finally, to determination. By the time the party began he had a plan in place to get Faelore alone so that he could speak with her. The thought made his hands sweat and his heart race, but after a day of contemplation he could come to no other conclusion.

It was remarkable that he could want so badly something he hadn’t even known he’d desired until that very morning.

The party was torture. There were so many dignitaries, nobles, wealthy merchants and other various important people demanding the Commander of the Inquisition’s forces attention, he could barely take a step without being accosted. He would have complained, but he knew that Faelore had it even worse. The two of them locked eyes a few times from opposite ends of the crowded main hall–commiserating wordlessly with each other over the heads of the people clamoring for their attention.

When the party was in full swing, several hours later, he caught a glimpse of Faelor’s white hair through the crowd, and realized she was making her way toward the door that led up to her chambers. _Now is the time…_

Excusing himself from his conversation, Cullen darted across the room to catch up with her. When her hand was on the doorknob, he spoke, hoping he didn’t appear out of breath from his mad dash through the party. “You managed to slip away.” She turned toward him and he nodded ever-so-slightly. “I thought I might claim more of your attention after all.”

Hand still on the doorknob, behind her, Faelore leaned back and dipped her chin. “Is there something on your mind?” she asked, raising one eyebrow.

Cullen’s gaze didn’t leave hers as he took two deliberate steps toward her. He stopped when he was close enough to touch her. “Everything,” he said, drawing out the word.

She bit her lip and opened the door behind her, before sauntering through it and casting a come-hither look over her shoulder.

He closed the distance between them in several long strides, kicking the door closed behind him and letting it slam shut in his enthusiasm and nervousness.

She raised her eyebrows at him, but said nothing as she took his hand. They climbed the stairs in silence. When she opened to door to her room, he entered it with a thoughtful expression on his face.

“Battle’s over,” he said, running a hand through his hair as he strode into the center of the room. “There will be a new Divine…Yet I don’t care about anything other than you being alive.”

The truth of his words sent warmth through his whole body, and he could see from the way Faelore smiled that she felt the same way.

As she stepped up to him her expression turned somber, however. “Cullen,” she began.

This is it. “I don’t know what happens after this,” he blurted out, unsure how to ask the question that had been weighing on him all day.

She let out a noisy breath, before pulling away and taking his hand again, leading him out to the balcony.

His heart and mind felt abuzz with so many thoughts and feelings–he felt as if they would burst out of him, as if his body was too small to contain such a tumult.

She stopped at the railing and Cullen came up behind her, wrapping his arms around her. Leaning back against him, she breathed in deeply and exhaled the words, “Neither do I.”

They stood there together facing the breathtaking view for a few heartbeats.

“But,” Cullen began, and Faelore turned around so she could look up at him “I hope that whatever comes next that you and I… will face it together.”

She dropped her gaze to her hand that she rested on his chest. “That is my hope as well.”

“Faelore… about this morning, in the war room… I admit, it caught me by surprise. I never even considered…” He shook his head, and then looked down at her with furrowed brows. “Do you want to get married?”

“Yes, I do,” she said, her voice a breathy whisper.

His eyes went wide and his mouth fell open. “Oh? Oh, I… that’s…”

At his stammering, her face paled and she stepped back from him. “Oh Maker… you weren’t asking me were you? You were just wondering…”

“If that’s something you wanted, yes,” he supplied, licking his lips. His mouth was painfully dry all of a sudden, until a dawning realization made a slow grin spread over his face. “You said yes.”

She covered her face with her had, a blush creeping its way up her cheek. “Yes, well…” Her hand dropped and she seemed to look anywhere but him for a few moments, before she seemed to gain her courage and finally met his gaze and gave a half-hearted shrug. “The cat’s out of the bad, I suppose.”

His grin felt permanent. “You said yes.”

Her face was downright pink. She raised a hand to her hair, twirling a strand nervously between her fingers. “Well, yes but…” She looked up at him through her eyelashes. “Technically speaking, you didn’t really ask…”

He crossed the distance between them with one long stride, before reaching out and grasping her hands with his own. All of his fear and nervousness evaporated, now that he had his answer. “Faelore Trevelyan, love of my life, my heart…” Taking a deep breath, he said the words he’d been mentally practicing since early this afternoon. “Will you do me the honor of becoming my wife?”

Her smile was blinding in its brightness as she leaned into him, tilting her face upward. “You already know the answer. So kiss me already.”

Taking her face in his hands, he bent his head and kissed her full, sweet lips. Of all the battles of his long career, this victory felt the most sweet, he thought as they embraced.

 _She said yes._ And with that one little word, the future was no longer an uncertain, frightening thing, but rather an exciting mystery that they would discover and solve together.

He wouldn’t have it any other way.


End file.
